Blank Redux
by legendarytobes
Summary: An alternate take on Season Four's Blank. What if it wasn't Lana who set off Clark's heat vision in "Blank?" Chlark.


**Blank Redux**

Chloe drove Clark quickly out to Kent Farm. She'd reminded her cousin that she really couldn't just rush off her job, since there was no one on staff to man the cash register at The Talon anyway. Lois hadn't been happy, and it wasn't like Chloe could blame her. Clark had taken a huge hit from the meteor freak already, and he had made it more than clear in the few words he'd said so far that he had no idea who he was or where he was.

Lois considered herself, whether Clark liked it or not, like his older sister. She wanted to take care of him as badly as Chloe did, especially with the Kents at Metropolis General for the next day or so. She'd called Mrs. Kent but hadn't been able to reach her. Chloe wasn't surprised. A lot of hospitals had crappy reception. Still, that meant she had the job currently of Clark-sitting, and that also meant she had to figure out if he still even had his powers or if the meteor freak had shorted them out too.

Chloe hoped that those were gone too, not because she was scared of Clark. No, she'd come to accept soon after she'd seen him catch a car exactly what he was and that, even if she didn't always remember it, that not all meteor mutants were killers or evil. Clark certainly wasn't. He was still the boy she'd loved since eighth grade, not that she'd ever tell him that. Still, she had no idea how to handle powers. If he had them and didn't even remember how to control them, then they were in huge trouble.

Frankly, she was just glad he'd been docile enough to let her manhandle him up to the loft. He was sitting there, eying everything, with a confused frown on his face.

"Wait, I live in a barn?"

"No," she said, not unkindly. "You hang out in one. Your dad outfitted this loft for you years ago. You have a bedroom and such in the yellow farmhouse."

"Kent Farm," he said. "That's what the mailbox said."

She nodded and sat down on the steamer trunk and faced him. Shelby was whimpering at her feet and she patted his head. Even the faithful golden knew something was off with his master, probably when Clark hadn't petted him right away.

"Clark Kent, that's your name."

He frowned again. "I don't remember _anything_ , not anything. The first thing I remember at all was waking up in that alley by the coffee shop. Shouldn't we be at the hospital?"

Chloe bit her lip and plunged ahead. "You can't go to a hospital."

"Is this a religious thing? Are my parents like Scientologists or something?"

She shook her head. "No, but you can't go anyway. I…maybe this will be better if I show you."

"Show me what?" he demanded.

Sighing, Chloe went back down to the main floor of the barn. It took a few minutes of scrounging through Mr. Kent's toolbox before she found a thick iron wrench. It would be perfect for her needs. Bounding back up the stairs, she frowned a little when she spied Clark going through their junior year yearbook. His brow was furrowed in concentration but then, suddenly, he tossed the book aside.

"Nothing is ringing a bell, huh?" she asked.

He ran his hands through his hair until it stuck up a bit on end. "Nothing." He glanced at his desk and narrowed his eyes at the MVP trophy on it. "I played football?" 

"You were really good at it. You were offered a scholarship to Met U, the biggest university in Metropolis, but you turned it down."

"Why? Isn't that a good thing? I mean, the background stuff is there. I know how to count or who's president or what Metropolis is. It's just me I'm blank on. I know enough to know college is expensive and that farmers don't always make a ton. Why wouldn't I take it?"

Oh man, the Kents were going to owe her a ton and they'd never even be allowed to know she'd helped. After all, she couldn't them know that she knew. It would freak her out too badly.

Chloe handed him the wrench. "Okay, just follow me here. I need you to bend that for me."

Clark laughed at her. "It's solid iron, yeah right, Cleo."

That was a fresh stab at her heart. Even with their ups and downs, she and Clark had been best friends for over four years. The fact he couldn't even remember her name burned. Of course, he didn't know his own either. "Chloe."

Clark's cheeks went red, and he looked away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

She waved her hand. "No, no, I get it. It's okay. Me Chloe, you Clark."

He grinned a little. "Okay, and then _Chloe_ is crazy because there's no way I can bend this!"

"Humor me," she said.

He rolled his eyes and took one end in each hand. Clark gave a quick twist and dropped his jaw when he realized that the wrench was now a twisted mess. He dropped it quickly, and started to breathe in short, uneven gasps. "What did I do?"

Chloe offered him her biggest and most patient smile. "Clark, I wish your parents were home already, I really do. I don't want to have to give you bad news, you know?"

"Look, I said I knew the background facts of life. There's no way in Hell I can bend metal."

"You just did."

"Normal people can't; I _shouldn't_ be able to."

She nodded and forced herself not to let her smile fade. All he needed was the right reassurance. Before, he'd had since the meteor shower to accept he was different. She was going to dump it on him all at once.

"When you were about three, Smallville was hit with the world's largest meteor shower."

"You too?" 

"Yeah, but I grew up in Metropolis. I wasn't here," she corrected. "My point is that the meteor rocks aren't carcinogenic and the EPA said they're safe, but they do other things?"

"Other things?" he asked, voice a bit shrill for him.

She nodded and walked over to his yearbook. Flipping through it, she found the picture of Alicia Baker as president of physics club. "The meteor rocks did things to some of the people in town, especially the kids. Not everyone talks about it-Hell, most people pretend it never happened-but some people can do things. This was Alicia Baker. It's a super long story and drugs were clearly involved and a Vegas quickie, but she was your wife."

He blinked. "Double huh?"

"Like I said, it wasn't exactly legal but it was a bad, stupid drunk thing earlier this year. Alicia could teleport."

"She's dead?"

"She was murdered a month ago," Chloe said, sighing. "She's not the only one who can do things. I've been keeping secret files for years and we've had people who could phase through matter, girls who could turn into wolves, and guys who could control anything that ran on a magnetic field. It goes on and on. You're like that. You're very strong and very fast and I don't think a lot can hurt you."

"No," he said, standing and starting to pace. She wondered if he even realized he was doing it faster than a normal person could have, that to her perspective he was blurring a bit. "I'm not some sort of what? Mutant?"

"Yeah, that's what I've coined them, 'the meteor infected' or 'the meteor mutants.'"

Once, she had very much called them "meteor freaks," but not since Alicia's death and not since she realized her best friend was really, truly among them. It was a hateful term and she regretted ever having created it.

Clark stilled and looked down. He swallowed hard when he noticed the groove his speed had made in the wood. "The Hell?"

"I said you were fast. You, uh, might not want to pace until you practice more."

He groaned and sat down carefully back on the couch. "Chloe, I can't just be some kind of monster here. I…how is this fair? I wake up in the middle of some damn X-Men comic and I've got three abilities I have no idea what to do with. You have to be lying."

"Do you have a better explanation for how you can bend solid metal?"

"Maybe it's rusted?"

"You know it's not. Clark, I'm so sorry that you're sick and that you had to hear it like this, but you understand why I whisked you back here. No one can know. You don't tell anyone. Besides," she said, patting his shoulder and glad he let her. "You're not a monster."

"I'm not normal," he countered, his voice barely a whisper.

"Normal's highly overrated," she chirped back. "Some of the mutants aren't very nice. They've hurt people with their powers and had to be stopped."

"Great some I'm a serial killer too."

"No, you're not," she said, rolling her eyes. "Some are just average and some are cruel, but you're unique. You're the only mutant I've ever recorded who actually helps people. Since freshman year, when things go wrong, you're the one saving people and putting things right. You've saved my life more than I can count, and to me, well, that doesn't just make you a hero. For lack of a cheesier term, you're a superhero."

"Really?"

"I think so," she said, squeezing his shoulder tightly.

"So I never tell anyone?"

"No. I mean, I assume your parents know."

He frowned. "But you know. So I must have told you. Hell, I must trust you an awful lot to have told you any of this."

She swallowed even if her throat felt incredibly dry. "You didn't. I caught you using your powers when you didn't know I saw you. I just never brought it up because I knew it would make you uncomfortable. Look, I keep files and I work really hard for the school paper-you too for that matter-but I'd never betray you."

Clark smiled at her and then her eyes went wide.

Really wide.

Her best friend and, okay, love of her life could defy gravity. He was sitting there floating at least three feet above the couch. Clark was staring intently at her, a slightly dopey smile on his face still, but then he blinked and looked down. He wobbled in mid-air, wind milling his arms all over, but he didn't so much as budge.

He was just stranded there, far above the couch.

Chloe had the strangest urge to get a hoola hoop and check for wires.

"You didn't say I could fly!"

"Technically," she said, her voice filling with awe. It was awkward but still smoking cool. "I didn't know this one. I've never seen you do it."

Clark frowned. "Well get me down!"

"I don't know how. You got up there so you have to figure out an off switch, Mr. Hot Air Balloon."

"I, oh man," he said, bobbing up and down like an apple in a tub at Halloween. "I don't think I can."  
**

"I brought you some food," she offered, bringing a tray loaded down with both peanut butter and jelly and roast beef sandwiches over to him. She'd grabbed some Cokes too so head had something to drink. "Are you hungry?"

Clark glared at her from where he was reading their yearbook again. "Not really. I'm like some weird mutant piñata up here and I've tried for an hour to get back down. This is crazy."

"This is Smallville," she said, sighing. "Look, if there's an on-switch, then there's an off-switch."

Clark went red. "I don't want to talk about it."

Chloe set the food on the steamer trunk and then put her hands on her hips. "Oh, you know. How embarrassing can it be?"

He swallowed and shook his head, shaking a bit in the air as he did it. "I don't know."

"You're a shit liar, Clark, even without a memory. I know all your tells. You, sir, know exactly what's setting you off, so just spill."

"I can't."

"Do you want to spend the night suspended until your parents get home and they can help?"

"Of course not!"

"Then just tell me. It can't be that bad. What, you're Peter Pan and you had a happy thought?"

Clark's cheeks went from red to bright scarlet. Oh.

 _Oh!_

"Oh, that, well…" Chloe fumbled, for once in her life not sure of what to say. "Those feelings happen for everyone and we had this film strip in sophomore year and wow, this is like awkward factor eight."

Clark was looking at the floor. "This could not get more awkward, could not."

"Okay, so, you're having, uh, thoughts and maybe just not have them?"

"I've been trying not to but, frankly, it's hard." He grimaced when he phrased it that way. "Ugh, forget that. That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" she asked. "I, look, if there's some weird memory flash of a dark-haired girl. That's Lana Lang and she's basically the love of your life."

He groaned. "No, and I'm not a pervert okay."

"I didn't say you were. I just…huh so being horny makes you float. That's kind of a disparate power set you have there, Clark."

He narrowed his eyes back at her. "I'm sorry. Do you have better powers you're holding out on me?" 

"No," she said, but something was pinging in the back of her brain.

Meteor mutants had one power or an ability that manifested in related ways like Tina Greer's shapeshifting and strength both came from her bones. There wasn't any way to really reconcile floating and strength and invulnerability all in one package. They just didn't go. Was she even right about Clark being a mutant?

But what the Hell else could he be? Outside of Mikail, she'd never met anyone who just had abilities because they were born that way or something other. Even Ryan had had a tumor. Clark was _something else_?

No, that was nuts. In Smallville, the meteor shower always explained everything.

"Then it's stupid and, no, I am not thinking about Lana."

"Lois? She's cute enough but usually you hate her."

"Who?"

"The girl at the cash register, my cousin?"

"God no, she's loud and awful."

"Oh, then the yearbook! This is about Alicia?"

"No, God, are you going to list every girl I've ever been in high school with and don't remember? It's you!" he shouted and then he clamped his hands over his mouth, his eyes comically wide.

She blinked. Due to an extremely embarrassing incident in her life which involved spiked Gatorade, she'd tried to seduce him (to be fair, she was out of her mind intoxicated at the time) on this very couch. He'd eventually kissed her cheek, and blown her off in spectacular fashion. There was no way she was making him float.

 _The Hell_?

"I…"

Clark put his head in his hands but the whole anxiety over all of this must have been the magic antidote because he crashed to the sofa and, in the process, managed to break the whole thing to smithereens. He was struggling to stand up, long legs all akimbo, when she rushed over and helped him up.

"I got it," he said, shaking her off. "I'm fine. I just…" he frowned back at her and then there was a breeze and she could hear the front door of the farmhouse slamming. God, he really was fast, wasn't he.

Sighing, Chloe stomped after him.

Clark had locked his bedroom door in what was a stunning display of maturity.

"Clark?" she called, knocking on the door. "Hey, you have to let me in. We should talk about this. Besides, the crowd's out of The Talon and we should look for some clues. Maybe if we find the guy who did this to you, then he can undo it. You can't go around without a memory forever, okay?"

"Just go away," he snapped. "By the way, I'll know if you don't leave because I can both hear your heartbeat on the other side of the door and see you."

She blinked and, curious, held up three fingers. "Can you really?"

"Three," Clark groaned. "You didn't tell me about the hearing or the see-through vision thing either."

Chloe sighed. There was definitely something different about Clark, and she didn't think he was a meteor mutant anymore, not after what she'd seen today. Alicia might not have known any more than she did, just that Clark had powers, but, clearly, he was something else, as Mikhail had been. Just…what the Hell was he?

Pushing her own natural curiosity aside, she leaned against the door. "I didn't know, Clark. I only knew about the strength, invulnerability and the speed. Everything else is new to me too. Please, let's just talk about this and then we'll get your memory back. You don't remember it, but we make a good team. There's nothing to be embarrassed about!"

Long minutes ticked by before she heard the familiar shuffle of boots on wood and Clark opened the door. She smiled back at him but kept herself on the hallway side of the threshold until he formally invited her in.

"See, I told you it wasn't so bad. Wait, can you see through my clothes?" she yipped, crossing her arms over her chest.

Clark shook his head. "That stopped but your heart beat is still really loud. I live like this every day?"

"I think so. I assume you, uh, got infected as a kid. You've always just done things. The first day I was here in eighth grade you were able to get me a book from a library two states over. You claimed you had it just lying around, but there was the weirdest breeze and my favorite book was in your loft. I never understood how."

He sighed and let her pass by him. She sat on the bed and was grateful when he sat beside her.

"Well now you know. I just don't know how you deal with all of this at once. It's overwhelming."

"You forgot how you learned to deal with it. You'll re-acclimate, and you'll do it a lot faster, if we find the memory burglar."

"Not the best name."

"I try," she huffed. "It's not always brilliance. So, you like me? Look, it's not that bad. I ended up very high-spiked punch, don't ask-and came onto you super hard in the fall."

"How hard?"

"You found me in your loft wearing _only_ your football jersey. It was the worst. We got past that. So if in a moment where you don't remember Lana, I might you float, that's okay too."

He snorted. "You roll with the weird way too well, Chloe. I found you cute and I broke gravity. You should probably be heading for the hills."

"See again where you're a superhero who's saved my life like a dozen times by now, literally," she said, taking his hand and holding it between both of hers. "I care so much about you that it hurts sometimes. I accept that when you have a memory, you don't feel the same way. I understand you can't change who you are and how you feel any more than I can. I'm just glad we're friends, okay?"

"Why do you do that?" he asked, voice lower and huskier than his normal.

"What?"

"You shoot yourself down and why do you keep bringing up that Lana girl?"

"Because you love her," she said, and it was the simplest fact of her life. Water was wet, The Inquisitor was the worst thing to ever happen to news, and Clark Kent loved Lana Lang. He'd made it abundantly clear two years ago when she'd read him her letter. "It's okay."

"I might know more tomorrow once we track the memory guy down, but Chloe, trust me. I don't have anything going on for me right now but my instincts, but I like you, a lot."

She started to cry and hated herself for it. Tears already falling down her cheeks. This was torture. No one else was around to keep Clark safe, but this wasn't real. He could only love her if he were a carrot. The universe was a cold-hearted bitch, that was the only logical solution.

"Chloe, hey, don't cry," he said, hugging her and she was amazed that as strong as he was, as little as he remembered of his abilities, that he was as gentle with her as always. "I'm the one who made everything weird by freaking floating. It's okay."

She sniffled and looked up at him and realized that they were very close then, that she could feel his breath on her cheeks. Then she wasn't sure what was happening. Clark's lips were on hers and his hands were roving over her body and it was the best thing that had ever happened to her, everything she'd always thought it would be and she could barely remember from her Gatorade haze.

When they broke apart, she was panting.

Clark was doing something else and it wasn't floating.

His eyes were clamped shut and he was screaming, something blood curdling and pained that scared the shit out of her. She hopped up and placed a hand on his shoulder again. "Clark, is it the see-through vision?"

"I…no, it just burns."

"Huh?"

"Duck!" he commanded and, after years surviving the weird of Smallville, she'd learned to react first and question later. She fell to the floor and turned just in time to watch Clark stare at his desk and then set it on fire. "Oh God," he said, even as the fire raged hotter.

Terrified, Chloe ran to the bathroom and grabbed as many towels as she could find. She used the mass of them to pat out the flames. When she turned back, Clark was staring at the whole thing, his mouth wide open and his posture rigid. 

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I…are you sure I'm just a mutant?"

She smiled sadly back at him, and tried not to be saddened by his focus on the floor. He was probably terrified he'd set something on fire again by looking at it. Something like her. Chloe wasn't completely sure that, right now, he had enough composure to keep from doing just that.

"That's my best theory. Clark, it's okay. I-"

He stood and hurried out the door. "Let's just get to The Totem or whatever it was called. I want my memories back before I kill someone."

"You trusted me."

The words were out of her lips before she could call them back. Clark froze in front of her, all the levity gone from his voice. "What?"

She looked back to what was left of the Wall. After Alicia's death, she'd taken all stories about the teleporter as well as those about Clark down. She'd promised herself she wouldn't press, that she'd take Lois's good advice. Except now Clark and she had shared something amazing and he didn't even remember that.

Irony sucked.

"Clark, I know, okay? I know you have abilities."

He rolled his eyes. "This again? Chloe, there's nothing different about me, no 'mystery that is Clark Kent.' I thought we put this all to rest after the veritas serum."

She leaned against the wall and folded in on herself a little. "We did, but Clark I'm the only reason you're not in 33.1 right now. I helped you track that guy down and I made sure you didn't expose yourself or your powers to Lex when you weren't all there, okay? How the Hell do you think I did that?"

"Because you're Chloe and you're smart and you just said I didn't do anything."

"I lied, Clark. You do it every fucking day. Look, I saw you use your powers about a month ago. I just never said anything because it bothered you and if you're fast and strong and use that to keep people safe, then that's great. I just…but after yesterday a lot happened and I know you have about four other things you do-the hearing, the see-through vision, and then you, uh, are an interesting guy when you like a girl."

He blushed and sighed, looking down at his hands for a long time before he answered. "It's called X-Ray vision."

"Huh?"

"That's what I call it. Chlo, I do have powers, but I don't like to tell people. Pete knew for a while and a rogue FBI agent tortured him over it. Why do you think he left? If something happened to you because you know me, I'd never forgive myself."

She frowned, not sure how to process any of that information. "What?"

"I'm not a mutant."

She nodded. "After the floating and setting stuff on fire by _looking at it_ both blank slate-Clark and I knew that much. I just didn't have a better explanation and it didn't matter as long as we could track that guy down."

"Wait, I did both of those things?" Clark was fire hydrant red again like yesterday. Oh so he and she were both very right about what triggered his floating _and_ pyromaniac activities. "I'm so embarrassed."

"We covered that and, yes, you did it because of me, the floating I mean. Then we got to talking and we might have kissed a little and then kablam! Your desk in your room was kindling."

"That explains a lot, actually," he said, looking down at his hands. She noticed that he pointedly hadn't gotten any closer to her.

"It's okay. It's Smallville. You spot me for being weird on Gatorade and I don't hold you doing stuff with no memory against you. It was flattering, Clark, and maybe it's just my personality you don't like and I should probably shut up now."

He didn't speak for a long time, but when he did, his voice was low and thoughtful. "It would never work."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"I've thought about you a lot, Chloe, especially since the Gatorade thing. I said I didn't feel that way right then and I didn't."

"See and it's fine, really," she said, proud that she at least sounded and looked normal. She could fall apart back home with Dad.

"Then you and I have gotten along so much better this month, and things just have been clicking so much better than ever. But it's stupid." 

"Because of Lana?"

"No," he said. "Because I'm not human."

"Well a mutant is pretty close. You were and it's not your fault the shower hurt you."

"No," he said, looking up at her with scared, wide eyes. "I was never human. Chloe, I came _in_ the shower. I'm what Cyrus thought he was."

"You're an alien?"

"Kryptonian," he corrected stiffly. "That's the word, and I don't like the other one. It sounds too cold and sterile, but, yeah, I'm an alien and I'm really strong and I get, uh, excited and things get lit on fire. I'm so sorry. There's no…I have nothing to offer you."

She rushed over then and hugged him, grateful he let her, and it always felt so good in his arms, so protected and safe. "You're my best friend and my only Torch minion. You save my life all the time and you're my own personal superhero. How could you even think that?"

"I'm not like other guys, and I _can't_. You deserve someone else, someone real."

"Oh, I think you are real, E.T.," she said winking at him and giving him a quick peck on the lips. Even when she pulled back, she noticed the slightest amber hint to his eyes. They'd have to work on that, on solutions for his excitement, but she was a great investigator. She'd figure it out. "Let's just try then. I think you're amazing, Clark, and whether you're from Krypton or Kansas doesn't really matter to me."

"It probably should."

"Nope, not at all," she said, hugging him tight. "Besides, I have to admit it. It's kind of a huge ego boost to know I can make you float or set stuff on fire. I dig it."

"You're so weird, Chlo."

She grinned back and kissed his cheek. "Damn straight and you're very, very lucky I am."


End file.
